Kingdom of Cages (57 page)

Suddenly Chena could not stand to be close to the man. She backed away, putting the breadth of the table between them again.

“We need you, Chena,” he said flatly. “You’re the last of your family that we have contact with. You’re the last one who can
help us.”

Chena hung her head. Her whole world spun so she couldn’t think straight. This hothouser was offering to help her find out
who killed Mom. He needed her. He meant it. He had shut off the all-seeing Aleph.

“Chena?” he asked gently.

Chena bit her lip and straightened up. “You are going to have to give me more than the chance that I might find out something
new about Mom,” she said.

“Such as?” asked Basante warily.

Chena touched her fingertips to the table. Its surface was smooth, solid against her skin. “Would you… could you bring my
sister back for me?”

“If you could tell us where to look, gladly.”

She brushed her fingers to and fro absently. The table didn’t seem to be metal, plastic, or wood. It was probably some new
thing the hothousers had grown for themselves. “Would you guarantee me that you would leave Nan Elle and others like her alone?”

Basante hesitated. “I couldn’t say, but I believe more latitude could be negotiated, if I turned a few favors.”

“Would you let me leave, once I’d given you what you wanted?”

“Yes.”

Chena slumped back down into the chair and knotted her fingers together. Basante stayed where he was, hands open, ready to
give her everything she ever wanted. Even if he was lying, he was giving her a chance to get back into the hothouse, in the
voluntary wing where she could have some freedom of movement and access to the databases. She could continue training Aleph
from there. She could not only find out who killed Mom, she could get straight to them.

And if he was by some miracle telling the truth, she could get Teal back too. All she had to do was say yes.

She swallowed again. Her throat felt tight and sandy. “Um, could…” She made herself give him a small smile. “Could I get
a glass of water or something?”

The smile Basante returned was genuine. “Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t think to offer you something. I’m pretty dry myself.”
Basante paused. “Can I turn Aleph’s awareness back on?”

Chena twisted her fingers a little tighter. Her fingernail with its stash of poison loosened ever so slightly. “I’d rather
you didn’t.”

Basante nodded as he stood. “I will be back in a moment.”

Basante left her there. Chena did not get up and try the door. It was sure to be locked. Even if it wasn’t, Aleph was out
there. She could not let Aleph know what was going on.

What if it’s real? What if he means it? Even if he doesn’t
… She clenched her fingers together, and then remembered how Dionte had done the same thing. Was Dionte one of Basante’s
friends? Was that why she had picked out Chena to contact? It made sense. Why not just pick her up? Because it would panic
the villagers. If she vanished on her own, who would care? Nan Elle, probably, but no one else.

They’d gone through so much just to get her here, to get her to listen to them. They’d shut down Aleph and they’d told her
everything. She could use them. They’d think they were using her, but she could use them. Maybe they’d even give her access
to the command that shut Aleph down….

With that thought, Chena made her decision.

The door opened to let Basante back in. He carried a carafe in one hand and two glasses in the other. He poured out a glass
of clear liquid and handed it to her. Chena, unable to drop all suspicions, sniffed the liquid and then took a swallow. It
was water. She hadn’t actually been expecting anything else. She gulped it down and reached for the carafe to pour another
glass.

“Are you sure no one’s watching us?” Chena turned to look behind her.

Basante glanced toward the door. Chena flicked her little fingernail against the lip of the carafe and poured her water.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Basante reached for the carafe and poured a glass for himself. “I wouldn’t have spoken as I have if I was
not sure.”

“Of course.” Chena studied her drink. “You did have a lot to say here, didn’t you?”

“I might ask”—Basante lowered his glass—“what you think of it.”

Chena cupped the glass between her hands, swirling the water slightly. “Why do you people care so much about Pandora? It’s
just one planet. There are millions.”

Basante looked startled. He took another swallow of water. “There are no other planets like this.” He smiled fondly, as if
he were speaking of a friend. “This is the closest thing to Old Earth that has ever been found. Earth, the mother of us all,
was destroyed over two thousand years ago by humans. We will never understand the place that gave us birth, the place where
we were supposed to be in the universe. By understanding Pandora, thoroughly and completely, maybe, just maybe, we can understand
our own nature, and the web of life.” His eyes shone. “No one has ever understood all the interactions that can make up sentient
beings. But we might be able to. If the world remains undamaged. If our work goes on, we might still one day be able to go
back and revive Old Earth.” He drank again. “That is why we are doing this, Chena. The Authority has threatened to destroy
Pandora, to destroy all the work and understanding we have achieved. We are being held hostage. We must do as they say. I
know your family has suffered because of this, and I am sorry. If you work with us, we will offer you what recompense we can.”
He shook his head. “I know it is cold comfort, with what you have lost. I love my family. I cannot imagine…” He must have
seen the stony look on her face, because he cut off his sentence and took another drink of water. “We will do for you what
we can, Chena. I swear.”

“Maybe you need me because you don’t have your cure,” she said. “Someone stole it out of my mother. Maybe you’re just lying
to me so I’ll be a nice, docile little volunteer for you.”

Basante shook his head again. The hand holding the glass trembled just a little. “If we wanted to use you, Chena, we would
have just taken you out of Offshoot.”

“How can I be sure?” she said softly, lifting her gaze to his face. He’d gone a little pale. He would start sweating any second
now. “How can I believe anything you say?”

Basante started to sigh, but it turned into a cough. His face crumpled in confusion and he pressed the heel of his hand briefly
against his stomach.

You’ve never been sick, have you?
thought Chena.
You don’t know what it feels like when your body turns against you. You’ve got no idea what’s going on right now.

Beads of sweat stood out on Basante’s forehead. He stood. “I’m sorry…” he began, but his knees buckled and he dropped to
the floor.

Her mouth went completely and instantly dry. She rounded the table. Basante curled up beside his chair like a baby, clutching
his stomach.

“Wha… what…” he stammered through clenched teeth.

Chena dropped to her knees beside him. She could smell his sour sweat and all the different scents of fear.

“Listen to me carefully,” she croaked. “You’ve got an alkaloid poison in your system. It’s killing you. I can save you.”

“Aleph…” He closed his eyes against another spasm of pain.

“Aleph can’t hear you. You said that, remember? I can save you. I will save you.”

His eyes rolled open again, wide and terrified. “Help me,” he murmured.

“Who killed my mother?”

His whole body shivered and twitched. “What?”

“Who killed my mother?” repeated Chena. “You know how to shut off Aleph. So did whoever killed Mom. Tell me who it was, and
what they did with the thing inside her, and you’ll live. I’ll run out the door. I’ll tell someone what’s happening. I’ll
tell them what I used.” She leaned closer, right into his ear. “All you have to do is tell.”

For a second, the poison released him and he lay there gasping for air. “You fool,” he panted. “You poor fool. You could have
saved us all. You could have been queen of the world.” He lifted his head, but another spasm wracked him and whatever he had
wanted to say became a wordless grunt of pain.

“Who killed my mother?” demanded Chena. “Did you do it? Huh?” She pushed at his shoulder. If felt hard as a rock. “Was it
you who cut her open to get at that thing inside her?”

Doubled over on himself, every muscle seized tight as the poison, her poison, gripped him, Basante still managed to shake
his head. “We didn’t…” he gasped. “I didn’t mean…”

Chena pulled back. “Liar,” she whispered.

Slowly, with infinite pain and effort, Basante raised his head to look at her with both eyes. “Not my idea,” he grunted. “I
never wanted this….”

Then the effort became too much. His head dropped and hit the floor with a crack.

Chena scrambled to her feet, her lungs heaving. He was dying. The liar was dying. Good. He should die. He helped kill Mom.
That much was obvious. Now he was lying to her. So why was she scared? She wanted this. Why did her mind’s eye keep showing
her the eyes of the woman on the boat, the one she had saved? Nan Elle herself taught her how to use poisons. Pharmakeus took
their revenge when they were injured. She was Pharmakeus. She was Helice Trust’s daughter. This was the beginning of her revenge.

Basante’s breath came fast and shallow. Sweat poured in rivers down his blue-gray skin. Chena knew if she touched him, she
would feel he was cold. He gagged hard, as if he were trying to vomit, but nothing came up.

Chena glanced away. Had he really locked the door? She hadn’t seen him do anything to lock it. If he had, though, everything
might be over.

She crossed the sensor line and the door opened.
Think now before you take another step.
Everything depended on her being right about Aleph. Aleph wasn’t like a computer with a set of instructions it could not
violate. Aleph was a human mind. No matter what else she thought of it, Aleph loved its people.

Chena ran into the corridor. The door shut behind her and vanished.

“Chena,” said Aleph. “What are you doing?”

Chena didn’t answer. She just ran up the straight corridor, heading for the foyer, and putting as many invisible doors and
rooms as possible between her and Basante.

“Chena, stop!” called Aleph. “This is not permitted!” Hothousers turned to gape at her. Chena kept her eyes fixed on the door.
She wasn’t going to make it. There was no way she was going to make it.

A lean, sharp-faced woman stepped into her path, grabbing her and twisting her arms around her back. “Sorry, Chena,” she said.

Chena ignored the woman. “Aleph,” said Chena, trying not to struggle. “Aleph, listen to me quickly. I’ve poisoned one of your
people. One of your people is dying, and you can’t find him.”

“What?” demanded the woman who was holding her.

“You are not making sense, Chena,” came Aleph’s infinitely patient voice. The golden-skinned girl image she used with Chena
appeared on the wall.

“Where is Basante?” asked Chena.

Aleph paused for a fraction of a second. “I don’t know.”

Shocked voices murmured around her. A crowd of hothousers had gathered, and not one of them could believe what they were hearing.

“No, you don’t,” said Chena, making sure they all heard her. “You don’t know where he is and you don’t know what he’s doing.
You don’t know he’s dying.”

Again, a fraction of a second for a pause. How many operations could Aleph work in that time? What was she doing? Who was
she telling about this? She could have searched the whole complex four times over right now, made a million decisions. If
Chena had figured this at all wrong, she was already gone.

“Chena, what do you know about this?” The woman shook her. “This is ridiculous.” A dark man had touched the wall, calling
up a room map. “I’m not finding anything wrong,” he said. “She’s lying.”

“Then why can’t Aleph find him?” asked Chena. “I know where Basante is, and I know why you don’t. I’ll tell you if you let
me out the environment lock into the marsh.”

“Chena, I cannot do that.” Aleph’s image remained frozen on the wall, as if she had forgotten to move it. “Chena, tell me
what is happening.”

Chena glanced behind her. “He’s probably stopped breathing by now, Aleph. Let me out of here, or you’ll never find him.”

“I am compromised. I am compromised,” murmured Aleph. “My fellows know no help. Where is Basante? I must find him. Where is
he?”

“Start opening the doors,” ordered Chena’s captor. “I’ll take her down to the holder and—”

“Take me anywhere and you won’t find him,” interrupted Chena. “Let me out of here and you will.”

The hothousers had spread out, touching the walls to clear the doors, but Aleph didn’t know where the missing door was. It
didn’t know to clear it.

“No,” said Aleph. “I cannot let you out. Pandora must be protected.”

“Then your Basante is going to die. Which is more important, Aleph? Work it out fast.”

“You would do this?”

“Aleph—” began the woman holding Chena.

“I am doing this,” whispered Chena, a fierce pride flooding through her along with the fear, and the anger, and so many other
emotions she couldn’t name them all.

“I cannot let your brother die, Thea,” said Aleph. “The environment lock is open.”

Chena tore herself out of Thea’s startled grip and ran. She flung herself down the straight corridor, ignoring the stares
and the exclamations as she hurtled passed.

“Amanitin,” she murmured as she ran. Amanitin was the active poison in mushrooms such as the death cap and destroying angel.
“Four grams, administered in water. That’s what he’s got in him.” The atrium opened around her, and there was the environment
lock. There were people staring. Let them stare. The lock opened for her approach.

“Where?” demanded Aleph. “Where?”

The word echoed through the lobby, and Chena just laughed. The door opened for her.

“Work it out!” she shouted to the startled faces and Aleph’s angry, empty voice. “You think you know everything! Work it out!”